Forget Scott Secco's "Ten Easy Steps to get VOD" article, these are:
TEAM ROBOT's three easy steps to VOD:
Build a sketchy ass jump. Big, small, it doesn't matter, just make sure there's a big hole in between the take off and landing and waaaaaaay more run up than necessary. Inadequate construction techniques on lip and landing are always a bonus.
Already gold. BFE Pennsylvania? Check. Airport length runway? Check. Is there a way-too-small lip that looks like it was built in ten minutes out of humus-duff-mor and misplaced hopes and dreams? That's a big check and check.
Foreshadowing, Part 1: there's already a sketchy log ride across this chasm of death, so we know these guys have low standards and even lower IQ's. You know this guy is doomed before he even enters the frame. The anticipation is killing me.
Foreshadowing, Part 2: bikes are like meth. Once you're hooked, you sell everything you have to get your next fix. Once you're done selling all your stuff, you sell yourself and make memories that no shower can clean off. Anyone who still has a Razor 4-wheeler clearly hasn't developed a full blown addiction yet, because when you need that new set of wheels or the new air downhill fork, that Razor is going to be on craigslist so fast you won't have time to say "sorry for selling that Razor you gave me, dad." It's obvious that these guys are joey's building stuff on dad's property, and I already know this isn't going to turn out well before I see frame 2.
Convince your sketchiest BRO to hit the jump while you film. As for equipment, get a Handycam, an old GoPro, a flip phone, a calculator, get anything you can sort of film on, and then film your bro getting broke off. This is not the realm of Phantom Flex 10,000 FPS shots. The worse the quality is, the better.
This next part is important, and you have a stylistic choice to make: Coach them to go either way too fast, or way too slow. Either one is comedic gold, but the choice is yours.
Long, mellow run in on soft dirt and mud? Check. Stiff upper body frozen in anticipation and fear as he approaches the jump? Check. No thought of pedaling? Check. The timeless cues are all there, bro is not clearing this jump.
Don't be one of those soft milquetoast tea-sippers who looks back on gladiatorial combat in the Rome days and thinks "how could humans be so brutal? I would never watch people fight to the death." I know I would have been right there eating popcorn and watching the gladiators duke it out, and I know that because right now I'm glued to the edge of my seat waiting to see bro's end of life play out in front of me. You are too. We already know exactly what's going to happen before bro hits the lip, but just knowing what's going to happen is not going to cut it.
We don't want to just know whats going to happen. Right now we want to see this bro die.
Profit. In a few minutes you'll know whether your bro will ever be able to eat solid food again, but here's a helpful little secret: he's probably unconscious right now, and even if he isn't he's still living in his own personal world of pain right now and won't remember anything you do for the next three minutes. So unless he's doing the "wind knocked out of me" wheezing noise (you know, this one), stop recording and upload this oscar contender onto Pinkbike. Prepare yourself for 50-100 thousand views and that bigtime VOD cash to start rolling in.
With all that big VOD cash you can buy your friend a Rascal Scooter so he can still come hang out.
Ain't no party like a Rascal Scooter party.